Immediate and furious hunger results in urgent TripAdvisoring
The hunt. You imagine a cosy local with fresh fish and dappled light. You can only find laminated menus and pizzas.
Find somewhere that smells good and is busy but you have to queue and spend ten minutes shhing the children and tripping up laden waiters.
Ordering in pidgin Spanish/French/Portuguese. Lots of pointing and asking for ‘but without mushrooms’.
Relief as cold red wine and Fantas arrive and spirits and blood sugars lift.
Food arrives and grown ups mainline grilled fish whilst picking mushrooms off the kids’ pizzas.
Contentment as kids play amongst greasy food marks and grown ups order another carafe.
Warm cheeked and woozy, everyone bundles out of the restaurant and in to the humming city to look for ice creams.